


Get to the Bottom of it

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [28]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Belts, Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom Bucky Barnes, Jealousy, M/M, Over the Knee, Punishment, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Sub Tony Stark, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Bucky’s had just about enough of watching Tony flirt with someone else. He’s going to get to the bottom of this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for the MCU Kink Bingo, square B4: Spanking
> 
>  
> 
> **Bucky and Tony are in established, if secret, relationship that has previously included BDSM, so Tony has safe words, even if this particular scene is very spur of the moment.  
> Keep in mind your own comfort levels; this is a punishment session

Bucky Barnes had been a sniper, long before he’d been the Winter Soldier. He knew about patience, about waiting, about finding the perfect spot and then remaining still until the ideal moment.

There were _limits_ to Bucky’s patience.

And the way Tony was making love to his champagne glass was trying Bucky’s patience. It might not have been so bad, a little spice to what was proving to be an excessively tedious affair -- most of Tony’s company functions were actually pretty fun, but this was not an SI event, but one of Tony’s competitors -- except that Tony was directing that Come Fuck Me look at someone _else_.

Bucky’d been with Tony long enough to recognize the difference between polite ha-ha, I’m Tony Stark banter and the sparkle of actual interest. The dame had been shooting off her mouth and offering tantalizing glimpses of her cleavage all evening. And the back of the dress barely covered the cleft of her ass.

Most of which Bucky could have tolerated. He couldn’t bring himself to ignore it, or enjoy it, but he could tolerate it. Except that was the fourth glass of champagne that Tony had taken in hand, the third dance, and they were edging too close to the dark corners of the room and the doors to the patio where lovers slipped away.

He wasn’t certain that Tony was actually _interested_. Could have been the booze talking.

But he’d blatantly been ignoring Bucky all night.

The glass stem in Bucky’s hand cracked. He managed to catch it with a deft twist, made a face and handed the broken glass to a passing waiter. “Bit of a grip--” he said, flexing metal fingers as a way of explanation, and didn’t bother to be reassuring as the waiter scrambled away. He flicked the droplets of champagne from his fingertips and went looking for his boyfriend.

Well, _stalking_ might have been a better word.

“--love to work with you sometime,” Tony was saying to the woman, which sounded all very polite and businesslike, except for the way he was watching her mouth over the rim of his champagne glass. “Everything I’ve heard about you suggests we’d be crazy not to attempt a... partnership.”

“Ah, _there_ you are, Stark,” Bucky said, moving through the concealing foliage of entirely unnecessary potted plants. “I-- oh excuse me, Miss, was I interrupting something?” There was a talent to the murder-face, making a simple question sound something along the lines of move along, if you value your limbs all being intact. Bucky had it down pretty well; he wasn’t quite as terrifying as Natasha, but he was no slouch. He directed the force of his _leave, now_ expression at the woman, taking a quick note of her face, so he’d know her later.

“Oh, no,” she said, “I think we were just wrapping up here. Tony, I’ll have my secretary call your office, all right?” She smiled brightly at Tony, and somewhat more stiffly at Bucky, and slipped away as quickly as she could while still maintaining face.

Tony sighed into his champagne glass.

“Well, that’s all poisoned sugar and no substance,” Bucky commented, just loud enough that she heard him, her hips ceasing in their appealing sway. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Stark, I have a maintenance issue I need your assistance with. Tensile grip needs to be recalibrated, before I break _something else_.”

Tony looked at him for a moment, perhaps measuring the level of anger in Bucky’s eyes, then nodded. “Right, of course.” He dropped his glass carelessly on a passing waiter’s tray, then gestured. “Lead on.”

He wanted to grab Tony’s bicep, maybe demonstrate a little bit of that tensile grip, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand went to Tony’s shoulder, and then slid down, possessively, to the small of his back.Their hosts had chosen a fairly good sized hotel for the gala, ballrooms for dancing, smaller rooms for friendly card games. Bucky passed several of these before selecting a door marked _business center_. The tiny room contained three computers, all in sleep mode, a printer/fax/copier, and a few charging stations. No one was using it, the lights were off. But the door wasn’t locked.

Bucky didn’t bother to lock it behind him, either.

He tipped his head to one side, crossing his arms over his chest, metal fingers drumming against the opposite bicep. “You steppin’ out on me, darlin’?”

Tony blinked at him a few times. “I would have to be insane,” Tony said finally. And then, when Bucky didn’t uncross his arms, added, “No, of course not. You didn’t really think that was _serious_ , did you?”

Bucky licked at his teeth, composing himself. It wouldn’t do to be angry; Tony was a defensive son of a bitch sometimes. Backing him into a corner often led him to coming out swinging. “I think she looked pretty damn serious,” Bucky said. “And you were lookin’ down that dress like you were thinkin’ about shaking them peaches.”

“She went to all that trouble to put them on display; it would’ve been rude not to at least look,” Tony said. “After all, I’m still on the market, publically.”

Bucky felt the muscle in his jaw start jumping, his teeth grinding together. He knew that, _he knew it_. All part of the plan, to keep things on an even keel -- the last thing any of them needed was the public speculating whether Tony and Steve’s fight had been about Bucky, or _over_ Bucky.

“You know, I might give it to ya,” Bucky said, “if you’d at least come over t’ say hi, when I came in. So, no. I don’t think I’m gonna buy your particular brand of bullshit tonight, Stark. You crossed a line.” He stalked over to Tony, circling him slowly, letting the menace in the air build.  

Tony watched Bucky make a complete circuit, then lifted his chin, because he was a stubborn son of a bitch. “What are you going to do about it? Spank me and send me to bed without dessert?”

“You think I won’t?” Bucky demanded, gripping Tony’s chin and turning his face up to Bucky’s. Nose to nose. “You’ll be sorry. Or you can be damn sore. But either way, your ass belongs to me, an’ I don’t share. We clear on that, dollbaby?”

They’d played before; a little on the bent side was Tony Stark. But this was the first time Bucky was looking to punish, rather than please. He watched Tony carefully, each flicker of those beautiful doe eyes. Gauging to see if Bucky was serious, and then considering if Tony was going to submit.

Tony met Bucky’s gaze, eyes widening as he realized Bucky was dead serious. If Bucky hadn’t been watching so closely, he might not have seen the way Tony’s pupils dilated. He couldn’t have missed the way Tony licked his lips. “I already told you, it wasn’t serious,” Tony said, half-belligerently.

“Your choice, buttercup,” Bucky told him. He kissed Tony once, hard, punishingly, brutally, forcing Tony’s mouth open and possessing him; kissed him until Tony was breathless, lips red and swelling and spit-shiny. “Gimme your belt an’ go stand next to that chair, or, out the door and go find your little cream-puff princess.”

Bucky waited, to see if Tony would code out, or walk out. Or give in.

Tony gaped at him for a moment, then abruptly yanked at his belt, pulling it free of his beltloops with a steely slither. He pushed it against Bucky’s chest, then stalked over to stand where Bucky had indicated.

Bucky tested the leather, looping it together and snapping the belt, letting the sound of it fade from the air before he went to the indicated chair and sat down. “Last chance t’ tell the truth,” Bucky said. “You’re still gonna take a few licks, for pushin’ my buttons, but if you admit th’ truth, I’ll go easy on you.” He tipped his head to look up at Tony.

“What do you want me to say?” Tony asked. “I wasn’t going to sleep with her, even if she thought I was.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s your ass, baby.” He reached over, grabbed Tony’s fly and jerked it open, peeling a pair of three thousand dollar trousers down until they were around Tony’s knees. Slid his boxers down, too. Bucky spread his legs, giving Tony a wide base to lay over.

Tony didn’t say anything, either to protest or code out, just watched Bucky.

“Jacket. Lose it. Down. Put your hands on the floor.” He’d picked the chair right in the middle of the room where they were perfectly on display; if someone opened the door, the hall light would spill directly on them. It wasn’t lightless in the room, bathed in the soft blue glow from the computer, enough for Bucky to see every detail of Tony’s perfect face.

The humiliating appearance of Tony with his ass bare, his dick barely covered by the tail ends of his shirt sent a throb of excitement through Bucky’s spine, pooled as heat in the bottom of his belly.

Carefully, Tony took off his jacket, folded it gently over the back of another chair. He took another long look at Bucky’s face, then awkwardly laid across Bucky’s lap, stretching to reach the floor.

Bucky snapped the belt again, just over Tony’s back, to watch him jump and startle at the sound. He ran one hand over Tony’s ass and thighs, exploring the firm curves. Let his thumb run between those perfect cheeks, eliciting a shiver. Flipped the end of Tony’s shirt up, exposing that ass.

Checked his elbow room to make sure he wasn’t going to clip the swing. Then he laid a hot stripe across Tony’s ass.

Tony jerked and hissed. “Ow, _fuck_.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Bucky said. He pushed his thumb down over the mark, testing Tony’s skin for the heat, the way the skin puffed lightly around the point of contact. Rested his free hand against the small of Tony’s back. Swung again, less than half an inch up from the first stripe. The crack of the belt was obscenely loud in the dim quiet of the room.

Tony hissed and whined and squirmed. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky said. He repeated the process of poking at Tony’s tender skin. It would probably fade quick enough. “You know you can’t yell, baby. Door’s not locked. Wouldn’t that just be a sight t’ see, everyone _knowin’_ you’ve been bad. Bad enough that I gotta punish you for it, hmmm?” He pushed his thumb into one particularly hot spot.

Tony whined again and tried to twist away from the press of Bucky’s thumb. “I know,” he panted.

“Or, you always was a reckless bastard,” Bucky said, thoughtfully. Not so thoughtfully that he neglected to give Tony another stripe, this time a half inch below the first one, painting pretty red stripes in an even pattern over Tony’s ass. “Maybe you like it, the risk. Gets your motor running, t’ think of someone walkin’ in here, and seeing that you belong t’ me? Got something smart t’ say about that, Tony?”

Tony grunted at the impact and let the air whistle out through his teeth. “Maybe that’s what I want,” he grated.

“Yeah, you need someone t’ take you down a peg or two,” Bucky commented. He laid the next stripe back on top of the first one, just barely pushing the edge up, leaving a thin, white line. God, that was beautiful. Bucky laid the back of his hand over the heated skin, feeling the way it radiated. “I know you ain’t stupid or reckless enough to cheat on me, so you wanna tell me what you were doin’?” He pulled the belt back, laid another stripe before Tony could answer, listening to the way the whine punched out of his lungs. “That’s five.”

Tony’s head was hanging limp, the nape of his neck tacky with sweat. “Wasn’t sure you even noticed,” he mumbled. “Wouldn’ even look at me.”

“Th’ _fuck,_ Tony?” Bucky blinked. “‘Course I _noticed_.” The first sensation was shock, then a cold rock dropped into his belly. Tony thought he was being _neglected_? Little bit of offended rage followed after. If Tony did it on purpose, because he thought Bucky wouldn’t see… well, that was just _insulting_. “So, you did lie.” He rubbed his thumb down the stripes again, not quite so hard, although it would still sting. “Not that you were gonna sleep with th’ girl, I know that, baby. I trust you. But it was _serious_. You were serious.”

Tony wriggled, and it was hard to tell whether he was trying to get away from the touch, or get more of it. “Serious about you,” Tony admitted. “Every time I looked, you were facin’ away. ‘N I know, I _know_ we can’t... Still wanted you. With me.”

“There’s better ways t’ get my attention,” Bucky said. His sixth lick was harder, on the clean, untouched skin just above the fat curve between Tony’s ass and his thighs.

Tony let out a half-swallowed yelp. “Fuck!” He stuffed one hand into his mouth, biting on the knuckles to muffle his gasps.

“Don’t push m’ damn buttons, baby,” Bucky told him. “I ain’t angry, but I am _hurt_.” Which was nothing compared to how hurt Tony was going to be. He laid another stripe, filling in the spaces that were untouched. He was going to paint Tony’s ass red, one inch at a time.

Tony’s groan was strangled and drawn out, but he didn’t manage any words, that time. Each breath came out on a soft whimper, and he laid limp under Bucky’s hand.

Bucky blew a puff of cooling air over Tony’s skin. “How y’ doing, honey?” He ran his hand down Tony’s spine to the base of his neck, watching the shirt ruck up to show off a good portion of Tony’s back. “You know, we can start… movin’ into each other’s circles. Start off slow, be seen chatting each other up, maybe a dance? Like everything was just starting. Get people used t’ seein’ us together.”

Tony let out a sound that was vaguely affirmative, and tilted his head to rub against Bucky’s leg. “Yeah,” he managed, sounding half-choked. “That’s. That’s good.”

“Yeah, okay, you’ve had enough,” Bucky decided. “C’mon, baby, here we go…” He helped Tony upright, then moved him, until Tony was kneeling in between Bucky’s thighs. “You’re okay, Tony. I love you. Always love you, baby.” He barely tugged, enough that Tony could resist if he wanted, offering comfort and a hug.

Tony practically fell into him, tucking his face up against the side of Bucky’s neck. His breath was still coming out in harsh pants, his cheeks streaked with tears. “Love you,” he rasped. “Thank you.”

“You know you’re th’ only one for me, right, baby?” Bucky asked him, nuzzling at Tony’s ear, soothing him. Fished out his pocket square -- it really wasn’t made for actual usage, just a decoration, but it was all he had, and likely no one would notice it was missing -- and wiped Tony’s cheeks with the silk. “You’re my best guy, no doubt about it. Sweet thing… shhhh, it’s all right. I got you now, we’re gonna make this all better, I promise.”

Slowly, he eased Tony’s slacks back up over his quivering thighs. The belt was going to have to go in Bucky’s jacket pocket. Tony did not wear his slacks, well, slack, and just having them closed was making him whimper.

Tony whined and hissed with each tug of fabric across his rear, but didn’t try to push Bucky away or take over the job himself. He leaned into Bucky’s touch like a flower seeking sun. “Be feeling that tomorrow,” he observed with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah,” Bucky said. He glanced around. “Will you be okay, just a minute or two? There’s a water cooler in th’ corner. I’ll be in hearing range, th’ whole time.” He really had not thought this through at all; getting Tony out of here if he dropped was going to be a right pain. As it was, he would glue himself to Tony’s side the rest of the event. Might be able to pass it off as drunk; Tony did have that reputation.

Tony nodded. “Water sounds nice.” He started to sit down, grimaced, and opted to lean one hip very carefully against the table the computers were on instead.

Bucky got up, filled two paper cups with water. No vending machine, but a quick raid of the cabinets turned up a box of granola bars that probably hadn’t expired yet. He snagged them, and made his way back to Tony.

“Here, baby,” he said. Tony always baby-birded, the first time, letting Bucky put the cup to his lips, cradling in gently behind him. “I got you.” He was careful not to tip the cup too fast, caught just a drip that ran down Tony’s chin and into his beard, wiping it away with his thumb. “More? Or I found a granola bar? You need something to eat?”

Tony shook his head. “Not hungry. Just... want to go home.” He made another face. “How much longer do we have to stay at this thing?”

Bucky yanked his phone out and checked the time. “I don’t think we have t’ stay, honey. I can take you home as a little too much champagne.” He punched in a quick text to Pepper and then Happy. “I’ll have ‘em bring th’ car around.” He tipped Tony’s chin up -- yeah, his pupils were blown, so much his eyes looked black rather than brown. “You’re down deep. Here, lemme--” he reached over, snagged Tony’s jacket. “--get your sunglasses on; the hall’s gonna be brighter than in here.”

Slowly, he eased Tony’s jacket on, in case he got cold. “C’mon. We’ll say goodnight t’ Steve an’ maybe our host if I c’n find ‘em. Can you do that, honey? Can you do that much?”

Tony nodded. “Whatever you want,” he agreed. He smiled up at Bucky. “You take good care of me.”

He didn’t, not if Bucky’d let things get this bad without stepping up, but they’d get there. “All right, then,” he said, sliding an arm around Tony’s lower back, being careful not to brush anywhere that might be sore. The button-down was untucked, and Tony’s tie was a lost cause. Bucky loosened it up, smoothed Tony down as best he could. “Okay, let’s go… just a little longer and then we can cuddle in th’ back of your limo, ‘kay? I love you, baby, I do. You’re th’ best.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for MCU Kink Bingo  
> Square B5: - BDSM: Aftercare
> 
> which gives us our first bingo!

Bucky’s arm was warm and -- most importantly -- _present_ at Tony’s back as they made their way back out into the hotel ballroom where the main party was. Tony’s head was spinning and everything was just slightly blurry. It wasn’t like being drunk at all -- it was quieter and calmer, for one thing -- but the outward appearance of it was probably similar, the careful movement of limbs and not quite focused gaze.

Tony’s ass _hurt_ ; Bucky had a hell of an arm. But it was just what Tony had needed, a grounding pain that reminded him that his place was at Bucky’s side, even here, when they couldn’t be openly together. That still made Tony sad, but he didn’t realize he’d made a noise until Bucky’s arm tightened around him and Bucky murmured, “Just a little longer, baby, you can do it.”

Tony nodded and let himself lean into Bucky’s side -- they _wanted_ people to think he was a little drunk, after all. Just a few more minutes, and then they’d be in the car together. The limo. Which had tinted windows and a privacy screen. Tony licked his lips, considering that.

Bucky’s fingers went stiff against Tony’s back, then, “Miss Frost,” he said, and Tony could tell just by listening to him, that Bucky was doing his murder-face impression again. “So good to see you again, and so astonishingly soon after our last meeting.”

The woman tittered; she wasn’t a bad sort, and her company had some very interesting products coming on the market that could be integrated easily with the Stark Home products. Bucky managed to steer them through a last minute conversation; this time without giving offense, and letting it seem as though Tony’s interest in the business partnership had only been sidetracked by artificial nerve pain caused by the arm.

Thoroughly charmed, Frost gave Tony one last peck on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd. “One down, one to go,” Bucky said. “Once everyone who thinks they need t’ see you has seen you, they’ll forget if you weren’t here all night.”

Tony nodded. He knew how this worked, probably better than Bucky did. He pulled on his press smile -- he could fake that smile in his sleep -- and straightened a little bit. “I can do this.”

“You got it, babe,” Bucky said. He kept his hand just in range, for comfort, as well as to keep Tony from listing badly to one side, but now they just looked like friends. _Five feet away, chilling in a hot tub,_ Tony thought, irreverently.

Bucky had a way about him that made people scramble to clear a path, even when he wasn’t loaded for bear and looking like murder. Like an aura. He cut through the crowd, pulling Tony behind in his wake. Steve was taking his turn on the dance floor with any of a dozen different Rosie the Riveter types. The old ladies flocked to Cap’s side; probably because he always viewed their dances and conversation as an honor, instead of an obligation.

Bucky put on his best aw shucks smile. “‘Scuse me, Captain,” he said, “y’ need to stop hoggin’ all the good dames an’ give some of us regular fella’s a chance. If you’ll do me the honor?” And Bucky neatly cut in on Steve’s dance, the lady giggling like a schoolgirl.

Which left Tony swaying, just a little, in front of Captain America, who was looking at his best friend with a fond grin. “Enjoying the party, Tony?” Steve asked. He grabbed a few finger sandwiches off a tray from a passing waiter -- Tony knew for a fact that Steve had his own waiter assigned to him, otherwise they’d never get the guy away from the buffet table.

“Tolerably,” Tony said. “Made a few good business contacts. Kissed a few hands, shook a few babies. You know the drill.”

“Yep, probably even before you did. That Stark razzle-dazzle,” Steve said. His eyes were tracking Bucky’s movement on the dance floor. “I don’t know how he does that. Guy manages to make them both look like they’re Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, where I’m lucky if I don’t step on someone’s foot. Always sharp, Buck was, and quick to hit the dance floor.”

Tony suppressed the resentment that he wasn’t the one dancing with Bucky. They were going to work on it. Bucky had promised. Tony staggered a step and realized he’d been swaying, leaning toward the whirl of motion on the dance floor. “Whoa. Might be all partied out now,” he said, letting his mouth take over on autopilot. “Think I might call it a night.”

“Surprised you can tell one from the other, hard as you’ve been working recently,” Steve said. “Why don’t you just take a day, tomorrow, not come in? Go out and get shawarma.” Steve clapped him on the back, which almost knocked him right on his face, except there was Bucky again, returning his dance partner.

“Here you are, Ester. Go catch yourself a live one,” Bucky suggested. “I’m gonna walk Stark out to his car, make sure he doesn’t end up in one of those tedious conversations about engineering until one in the morning.” Bucky managed the transfer smoothly, handing Ester back over to Cap. “Let’s get you on the road, yeah, Stark? Maybe hit up an all night doughnut and coffee place on the way back to the Tower?” Bucky was just babbling, really, not saying anything important, and Tony might not even have noticed, except Steve turned his back on Ester to watch them walk away, a curious, not-quite-suspicious glint in his eyes.

Steve gave a tiny little shrug to Tony, and then apparently dismissed them both.

“Steve’s gonna corner us tomorrow,” Tony predicted. He added a stagger to his step, just to make Bucky catch his elbow and right him again.

“I gotcha, baby,” Bucky told him. “Don’t you worry about Steve, let me worry about Steve. Here, there’s steps down. Three of ‘em, before the landing.” Bucky shoved the door open at the bottom and ushered Tony through.

Happy was already scurrying around the front of the limo to open the door with a “headed home, Mr. Stark?” and almost shut the door in Bucky’s face, before Bucky got his fingers in the way.

“I got him,” Bucky all but snarled at Tony’s driver.

“S’okay, Hap,” Tony managed. “Bu- Barnes is gonna ride back to the Tower, make sure I get poured into bed.” He summoned an easy grin for Happy, and then perched very gingerly on the edge of the limo’s plush seat. He waited for Happy to shut the door behind Bucky, then slid off the seat and onto his knees on the floor. “Fuck, that hurts.”

Bucky slid over, hands touching Tony’s hair, down the side of his face. “God, you’re pretty,” he told Tony, leaning in for a soft kiss. He brushed his lips over Tony’s forehead, pressed a kiss to each eyelid. “Jus’ so sweet, ‘n soft, ‘n wounded. I’m a bad man, but damn, you look so pretty like this, I can’t hardly help it.” He ended that with a nuzzle at Tony’s mouth, just the barest pressure of Bucky’s tongue against his lip.

Tony couldn’t help the moan any more than he could stop himself from chasing Bucky’s mouth. He pushed and wriggled until he was kneeling between Bucky’s thighs. “Want to blow you,” he said. “Please?”

Bucky’s eyes closed and his mouth opened with a punched-out little sound, wanting and surprised at the same time. “Oh, Tony,” he said. Ran his hands, both hands, down the sides of Tony’s face and captured him with another kiss. He smoothed that metal thumb over Tony’s lower lip to cap it off. “Yeah, baby, I’d like that. I’d like that a _lot_.”

That made Tony feel warm and happy, knowing he could please Bucky. He sucked Bucky’s thumb into his mouth, tracing the fine plates with his tongue, even as he pushed open Bucky’s suit coat to tug at his pants.

Bucky tugged his tie loose until the bow was unraveled, popped a few buttons to give himself space to breathe; the tailor always did such a good job with Bucky’s suits. He was always straining at the seams, even when the cut was perfect, like he was one flex away from shredding his shirt. It was, in a word, delicious. Worth every penny.

Bucky settled back onto the limo’s seat, looking disheveled and tousle-haired, belt undone and zipper down, showing off the red silk boxers he wore, the waistband bearing the Stark Industries logo.

Tony hummed happily and mouthed at Bucky’s cock through the soft silk, letting it drag wetly over Bucky’s skin. Bucky had the most gorgeous dick Tony had ever seen, thick and long and perfectly curved. He traced around the head with his tongue, teased at the slit until Bucky’s hips jerked and Tony could taste pre-come leaking through the fabric. Then he eased down the waistband of the boxers and let himself taste Bucky’s skin, sucking delicately at the head, flicking his tongue to ramp Bucky up even more.

“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good at that,” Bucky told him, metal hand cupping the side of Tony’s jaw, the other hand going to run through Bucky’s hair, ending with that squeeze at the back of his neck. There was a flutter and click as the heat vents in Bucky’s arm activated. Bucky had some control over that feature, unless core temperatures were critical, but Tony always liked it when he could make Bucky forget, do it involuntarily.

And, to say nothing of the fact that Tony was pretty damn in love with the _arm_ , almost as much as the man.

Bucky rocked up to meet him, then forcibly stilled himself, watching Tony from under long lashes.

He wasn’t going to draw it out long -- not having any idea what the traffic was like between the hotel and the Tower, he didn’t want to have to call a halt early -- but he couldn’t resist making it a bit of a tease as he worked himself down Bucky’s shaft, pushing deeper and then pulling back for a moment, tongue busy all the while. He tried to keep watching Bucky as he did it, knowing how much Bucky enjoyed that, but it wasn’t long before he was letting himself drift, feeling the weight of Bucky’s cock on his tongue, the gentle push of it at the back of his throat, the constant, throbbing sting lingering on his ass.

It was hypnotic, the motion and the sensation, punctuated by Bucky’s soft encouragement and sweet touches, and Tony let himself float on it, content and happy.

“God, you’re so good t’me,” Bucky murmured, his hand busy with Tony’s hair, sometimes touching the corner of Tony’s mouth as his lips stretched, and for a short while, laying against Tony’s throat to feel himself moving in and out. He groaned, arched up high enough to nearly gag, then his breath caught.

“Tony!”

There was nothing quite so sweet at listening to Bucky fall apart.

Tony swallowed it all down, neat and tidy, suckling gently until Bucky made a soft, overstimulated sound. Then he pulled away and carefully tucked Bucky back into his trousers. He sat back on his heels, then remembered how much his ass hurt. He leaned forward instead, resting his head on Bucky’s lap and letting his arms curl around Bucky’s waist.

When the limo pulled to a stop, Bucky leaned down and gave Tony a quick kiss. “Pretend you’re asleep,” he said, which was just nonsense, because Tony was asleep. Mostly. Kinda. Sort of.

“I got him, Mr. Hogan,” Bucky said. “Jus’ a few too many, I think. It’s no trouble, he don’t weigh hardly nothin’ when he’s not in the suit.” Not that Bucky couldn’t carry him, bridal style, armor and all, if he wanted to.

Bucky jiggled him a few times, getting him settled, and Tony let his arm flop over, adding to the “sleeping” illusion.

“Don’t snore,” Bucky hissed under his breath. “You sound like a sheep dog in heat.”

Okay, that wasn’t fair; how was Tony supposed to pretend to be asleep and _not_ laugh at that? He hoped Happy wasn’t watching too closely as he pressed his lips together and shook with suppressed giggles.

“You’re a mess, baby,” Bucky said as the penthouse elevator doors closed behind them. “But you are _my_ mess.” Despite no one watching them, Bucky didn’t put Tony down, kept him curled up like a little kid against Bucky’s hip, his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

It was nice, it was so nice, Tony couldn’t stop thinking that word. Nice. _Nice nice nice_. He giggled again and tucked his face in against Bucky’s neck. “All yours,” he agreed.

Bucky took them off the elevator and into the penthouse; a brief blur of burnished steel and wood, rich and warm and somehow both austere and homey at the same time. The bedroom, his bedroom, was enormous, with a glass wall overlooking the city. A sunken pit that held his bed, big enough for at least a half-dozen, and warmed by high tech mock-fire pits. Pretty and modern and always lonely when he was there, by himself. Strange how in most of their affair, he and Bucky had only made it up to the penthouse once before. But Bucky seemed to have an iron-trap memory, putting Tony down on the bed for a moment before fetching a few snacks, a bottle of water, a jar of lidocaine cream, and pulling Tony’s favorite fluffy blanket out of the chest where Tony kept it hidden and for special occasions only. It was old.

Like him. He sprawled, stomach down, on his bed and groaned. “I love you and I need all the cuddles.” It was warm on the bed, but now the adrenaline and excitement were starting to wear off, and he was beginning to really feel it.

“You need to hydrate,” Bucky told him, handing him a water bottle, uncapped, with a straw poked in it so he didn’t have to roll over. That was nice. He propped himself up to drink, while Bucky worked on, carefully, peeling him out of his clothes. Shoes and socks were easy, and the shirt and undershirt mostly just involved some maneuvering, but when Bucky reached under him to get at the pants’ zipper and buttons, Tony was reminded of how tender his hind parts were. “Okay, okay, lift up, an’ deep breath. There we go, almost…” Bucky left Tony’s boxers on, and then Tony squeaked in surprise when Bucky put something very cold, barely wrapped in the blanket, over his buns.

Tony squeaked and flailed. “Oh, shit, what the hell--”

“There, no, don’t push it off, just wait, it’ll get better,” Bucky sighed, moving the cold pack back in place. “Shhh. Here, I got ya, just let it numb your bum, a bit.” He crawled onto the bed and stretched out near Tony’s side, looking at him. “You feelin’ better, bright eyes?”  

“Always better when I have you.” Tony reached over to touch Bucky’s face. “I’d say I was sorry for being such a brat, but I’m kind of not.”

“ _Such_ a brat,” Bucky agreed, fondly. “Pudding?” Bucky offered a spoon and one of those kiddie cups. “Oh, don’t make that face, I’ll have to fly Iron Man down to dock in the landing gantry, and we both know I look silly tryin’ to make repulsor noises.” Despite that, he swirled the spoon through the air, before nudging at Tony’s mouth with the bite.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Tony asked, or tried to. As soon as he opened his mouth to complain, Bucky stuffed the spoon in it. “Mmf.” He thought about glaring, but the pudding was actually pretty tasty. He swallowed. “Okay, I’ll eat the pudding.” He pushed up onto one elbow and reached for the cup.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, handing it off. “Sometimes, I think you need a swat before dinner most days, just t’ remind you to eat.” He peeled the cold pack up and peered underneath. “It’s just pink, really. You might have a little bruisin’ tomorrow, but nothin’ you can’t handle. You want cream on it, or you good? Wouldn’t mind gettin’ you naked and rubbing my hands all over you.”

“Little cream couldn’t hurt,” Tony said around the pudding. “Keep me from waking up when I roll over in my sleep.”

“A’ight,” Bucky said. There was a dip and movement in the bed as he got up, went ahead and stripped down to his boxers, before climbing back on, the lidocaine in one hand. He slid on a thin glove to keep it from getting in all the creases -- that was always a pain to get gook out of his hand -- and drizzled the thin, almost runny stuff onto Tony’s backside. Where it touched, at first, it was cold enough to make him squirm, and then everything went just a little bit numb. Not quite as much as the dentist’s stuff, but enough.

Bucky rubbed the cream into his ass, gently, making sure to get a thin coating. “Swear t’ God, Tony,” Bucky told him, “there ain’t no finer ass _anywhere_. Forget Helen of Troy, someone went to war over a backside like yours.” He leaned down and dropped a kiss right in the small of Tony’s back.

Bucky wiped his hand off, got rid of the glove, and continued to rub Tony down, easing pain out of his stiff shoulders and tight back muscles, and then worked down his thighs and calves, until Tony was all but asleep.

“There you go, baby,” Bucky said, tucking the blanket up around his shoulders. “I got you. Be here all night, if you need me.”

“Want you,” Tony mumbled sleepily, reaching out for Bucky’s hand. “Stay.”

“Always. Right here with you, Tony,” Bucky told him. He dropped a kiss in Tony’s outstretched hand, then folded his fingers around it. “Don’t lose that, you hold onto that kiss, give it a chance to seep in.”

Tony huffed a little laugh, about all he could manage with sleep weighing him down. “You’re such a dork,” he said, but he kept his hand curled tight.

 


End file.
